


The Witch's Cave

by riot3672



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM Scene, Choking, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humorous Ending, Nerd Wanda, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Star Wars References, dominant wanda, mild the force awakens spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5459519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riot3672/pseuds/riot3672
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing 'The Force Awakens,' the options for Pietro are listen to Wanda gush for 6 hours straight or try out a little Star Wars roleplay BDSM. He chooses BDSM. Wanda chooses to be the torturer.</p><p>(For serious, fair warning, tiny spoiler for TFA. Basically, this fic makes vague references to a scene that you can expect would be in a Star Wars film but in this case was indeed in TFA.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Witch's Cave

Wanda had always been a bigger _Star Wars_ fan than him. It had always confused their parents, from the day they bought Pietro a toy lightsaber for their birthday and a dollhouse for Wanda and Wanda had cried for three hours. It was one of those dam-bursting topics for his sister, a trigger word of “the force,” “Skywalker” or “parsec” that could get Wanda animated and ready to talk for hours. 

So, naturally, the girl was over the top excited when Tony got everyone tickets for _The Force Awakens_ the opening night. And, sure, it was a good movie. Pietro didn’t _not_ enjoy it. It just…the amount Wanda loved it was scary to watch.

“Dammit Wanda, you’re wound up like we snorted lines of cocaine before walking in,” Pietro commented as they opened their bedroom door the night after the movie.

“How could you doubt this? That was amazing!”

“I’m not saying it’s not.”

She plopped onto their bed, looked to him. “What did you think, Mr. Critic?”

Pietro shrugged. “Your basic feelings. Although I have to appreciate how easy they make torture porn with some of those scenes in this one.”

Wanda smirked. “What, Han and Darth Vader didn’t do it for you in the originals?”

Pietro made a face. “Visually, anyway, this was more appealing. Plus, it’d be easy to look hot if all I had to do was dye my hair black and blow dry it.”

Pietro wasn’t great at reading eyes, but God, he could _see_ the flash across his sister’s eyes. “You want to give that a go?”

Pietro smiled. “Star Wars torture porn?”

She shrugged. “We wanted to try BDSM anyway. We just need to find a reclining chair.”

“There’s one in the medical ward.”

Wanda grinned, and he was grinning right back.

“Get some black clothing and dye. I think I have a robe that’ll work.”

Pietro knew his stuff. Stole some hair dye from Tony, who despite not actually dying his hair black, had black hair dye, and played around with a black robe. By the time he’d gelled and dyed his hair, he looked somewhere between Kylo Ren and Thor’s brother, and it looked damn good.

He snuck into the medical ward to find Wanda, only to find she’d brought more than lube and condoms.

She was wearing a black robe too.

“I’m confused. Aren’t I supposed to be a sith lord?”

Wanda rubbed her arm. “Well, I was thinking about it, and realistically, don’t I have the powers that would make me better as Kylo Ren?”

Pietro considered it. He supposed she did have the red magic-y powers. Maybe she would make a good sith lord.

Pietro shrugged. “This is more for you than me. If you get off choking me in a black robe, go for it.”

Wanda hesitated, looked around the room then back to him. “So I can choke you?”

“If it enhances my orgasmic experience.”

Wanda nodded. “Safe signal?”

“Tapping three times on the metal of the chair.” He demonstrated. “Ready?” Pietro sat himself down in the dental chair looking thing. “Tie me up and get down on me, Mommy.”

Wanda gave him a look. “I’m not your mommy.”

A hex grew in her fingertips, and suddenly Pietro was secured to the dental chair and the lights were off. Wanda seemed to dim the light on her hexes holding him down, leaving the only real source of life her red eyes. Jesus, what was the safe word if he pissed himself?

Wanda turned on some of the lights, leaving the room dim enough to see everything but to hurt his eyes doing it.

She walked up to him, silent as a ghost, and slid the pads of her fingers over his face, forehead downward, closing his eyes. He shivered a bit under her touch, and kept his eyes closed. He felt…he didn’t know how to describe it. A heaviness, perhaps, like the start of a headache but more mental. He winced, tried to keep his face as straight as possible. He didn’t know Darth Wanda’s tricks.

He didn’t know how, why, nothing, but he opened his eyes, as if compelled by some silent command.

He found Wanda staring at him, crouched down, just like Kylo Ren had been in that scene. She straightened out slowly, until she was standing up straight, taller than usual, it seemed. Her eyes still glowed. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, her voice…low. Like, deeper. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to speak. But God, the way her eyes wandered over him, that tiny furrow on concentration on her brow, the outline of her bare body somewhere under that robe and he could feel his excitement grow. Impatience as well.

She quirked a brow, started a slow pacing around the chair. “Eager, aren’t we?”

Pietro cracked a smile, only for her hand to brush through his hair again, slicing against his jaw joint with an untrimmed nail. He flinched, even knowing how shallow it was. The prickle of pain somehow managed to transform itself into a muscle twinge by the time it got to his dick.

“You’re mine, Maximoff,” she said as she tightened her hex grips on him.

Not moving from her several feet from him, she removed his robe. He hadn’t left much on—figured he wasn’t supposed to—and the cold of the room stung. _You’re mine. Yeah, I’m yours. God, I’m all yours._

Wanda shed her robe, revealing a gorgeous black set of lingerie. His jaw slackened a little, and before he knew it, he’d broken out of Wanda’s hex, hand desperately clambering to his cock. He couldn’t stand staring at her without soothing something.

Wanda’s red eyes landed on her, her frown deepened. 

And, shit, it hurt. His head suddenly hurt. God, what was—?

Wanda had mind powers. Right.

But God, she wasn’t letting up. She hadn’t stopped him from doing what he was doing, though. Let him mix the pain and pleasure into whatever cocktail he wanted. 

Then, the pain was gone. Wanda continued to just stand there with her lingerie and red eyes, and now the condoms and lube were by him. He glanced up at Wanda, she gave him the tiniest twitch of acknowledgment, and he fixed himself up.

He didn’t get enough time to bask in his naked body lying there before Wanda finally touched him. Climbed up, lowered herself onto his dick.

“I’ll make you keep going until I’m done,” she whispered in his ear.

He didn’t really know what she meant by that, but assumed it was some kind of torture treatment. She was making his head fuzzy again, losing sense of everything around him but the rhythm of their bodies together. She thrusted hard, rough, definitely more than she’d ever done before. So much that fuck, maybe it _was_ painful. But, every thrust he thought he’d start tapping, a burst of pleasure shot through with it. Addictive, overwhelming pleasure. He struggled against Wanda’s new restraints, sweat under the stress, fought to keep his mouth shut, but it felt _so good_. 

He couldn’t tell if Wanda was coming close to coming or not, she’d numbed him so bad. He could only only guess by her pace, the way she’d strain, thrust harder, arc and squirm. Then, holy hell, digging ten little flesh trenches in his shoulders sure helped. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He cried out with her as she came, the pain dizzying. He bit his tongue, puffed, suddenly oddly dreadful of Wanda’s reaction. 

Instead, she leaned in. “You gonna come?”

Muscles taut, toes curling, yes, yes, yes.

He caught Wanda smirk, saw her reach her hand our strain her hand into a sort of C-shape…

And he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe, he was about to come and—

That was the whole fucking point.

He moaned as loud as he could, writhed, let the pleasure goddamn explode. 

Pietro sucked in air by the lungful, and Wanda released all the restraints. He flung forward, chest heaving, sore, clinging onto Wanda for dear life.

Slowly, his breathing calmed. His back stung, his heart was hammering, his lungs hurt a tiny bit, and his whole body was teeming.

He looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were green again. 

“Was it fun?” she asked.

He smiled. “Choke me, Mommy.”

They snuck back to their bedroom trailing their clothing behind them, Pietro burrowing under the covers as Wanda searched through their medicine cabinet. She returned with a tiny first aid kit. Naked and beautiful, she wiped the blood off his back with a cool cloth. Once she’d cleaned him up, she draped a heating pad on his neck. 

“You did good,” Wanda said as she cuddled into him.

He smirked. “So did you. You’re a little too good at that, actually.”

She smirked. “I was gonna choke you before, but it wouldn’t have been a very good finale, then.”

He kissed her forehead. “You want me to do that to you?”

“Yeah. Someday.”

He felt asleep first.

#

Some angel was making waffles, and God be damned, Pietro was going to get one. Usually, it was Sam making waffles, and Sam didn’t like late orders. So, first thing that morning, Pietro sped into the kitchen still pajama clad, barely ready for the day, but 100% ready for waffles. Wanda trailed behind him.

Natasha, Steve, and Clint were already going about their mornings, newspapers and coffee in hand. 

“With or without chocolate chips?” Sam asked, facing a bowl of batter.

“Four with.”

Wanda could have one with. 

Sam continued to cook, and someone looked up from the paper. Steve.

His eyes widened, and he jumped out of his seat.

“Pietro, what happened?” he demanded.

Huh?

Pietro furrowed his brow. “I…woke up, and wanted waffles?”

“No, your neck! It looks like you got choked!”

Choke—

He glanced at Wanda, and suddenly Sam, Clint, and Natasha were all staring at him.

Wanda gave him a sheepish grin and went to rifle orange juice out of the fridge like the coward she was.

Natasha returned to looking at her paper. “Goddamn knew it.”

 


End file.
